


Some Similar Experience

by SilverInk



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 5 Times, Canon Temporary Character Death, Community: theoldguardkinkmeme, Gen, Historical References, Humanity, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Natural Disasters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: The Old Guard use their immortality to help ordinary people — but sometimes, ordinary people are able to give them help as well. Here are five such stories of mortal men and women helping the team of immortals.Inspired by a prompt from The Old Guard Kinkmeme on Dreamwidth.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Quynh | Noriko, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Italy, 79 CE - Andy POV

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt on The Old Guard Kink Meme: https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/7005.html?thread=2438493#cmt2438493
> 
> _5 people who helped the Old Guard through the centuries, maybe even saved their lives because they had no idea they were anything but regular humans as well._
> 
> _None of them being James Copley, please. There can be famous historical people in there, but I'd rather the majority were OCs._
> 
> I'm planning on writing about one lesser-known historical figure, but the rest are OCs. I also tried to change the immortals' names as much as I could for the different centuries/countries so hopefully that's not too weird to follow!

**_Pompeii, Italy, 79 CE:_ **

Dark clouds swirled to envelope the whole sky as the ground underneath her shook again. Andromache looked around in despair, seeing people running without direction. She had convinced so many of them to flee the city—the young man and woman with their three crying children, the woman and her blind father, the hunter with his two dogs, the three wealthy women with their dresses torn, the two middle aged men both limping and leaning on each other—but there were still so many who remained. There were too many people, and Andromache, frustrated, wanted to scream at them and make them all understand _why they had to leave_.

A three-story apartment nearby collapsed into a heap of rubble with the next tremor of the ground, and Andromache didn’t move in time to avoid being struck by one of the heavy stone bricks...

The brick killed her, and when she revived again, the first thing she saw was the worried face of a young man. He jerked back in surprise as she gasped back to life, and Andromache was glad she was too covered in blood and dust for him to see her injuries heal.

“She’s alive!” the man called over his shoulder, and a second man, a little older and wearing the simple, worn tunic of a slave, came to his side. Both were weary and covered in dust. “Lay back down, just rest a moment,” the first man told her, and Andromache pushed his hand away.

“I have to help them,” she ground out, trying to get up.

“Demetrius, help me!” he said to his companion, and the slave put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still; then to her, “You need to lie down, you’ve been hurt.” There was a pause, and Andromache stayed still to appease them.

Frustrated, she gestured to the people all around them. “If they stay here, they’ll all die.”

“Yes, we know. Quintus and I—we are the only ones of our household left alive,” the slave, Demetrius, said. “It is our plan to escape the city now.”

“It is true,” the other man, Quintus, agreed. Alarmingly close, another building collapsed, leaving a billowing cloud of dust that settled over them. “We should go, now!” Quintus shouted, coughing. “Come with us. Can you walk?”

She had to remind herself that he believed she was still injured. She cursed inwardly, nodded. “I think so.”

Between the two of them, Quintus and Demetrius pulled Andromache to her feet, and Demetrius kept a hand on her arm to steady her. People around them continued to run in the chaos, and the ground under them shook violently again and again. Andromache cursed aloud this time, vehemently but very quietly; she almost couldn’t see where they were going through the dust and the clouds covering the sun, having to trust the pressure of Demetrius’ hand on her arm to direct her. They stumbled a few times, and it seemed to take a long time for them to get out of the city, but eventually they made it to the outskirts, and then to a mountain nearby and away from the majority of the dust and chaos.

“Thank you both, for helping me,” Andromache said as the three of them sat in the grass to rest. “I do regret that we couldn’t help more people, but I am eternally grateful that you helped me.”

“Some of them could not have been persuaded to leave, you know. It was their home, and many of them would have been too stubborn.” Quintus spoke sadly, as if he knew many people with that same mindset.

It had been a long time since Andromache had considered anywhere to be her true home, but she knew Quintus was right. A home, a place that you loved and lived for years and where you had friends and family—that would surely be difficult to leave. The thought of leaving Quýnh and Lykon, the people closest to her and who she considered family, and never seeing them again was enough to make her heart hurt, and she thought it must be the same thing.

“I can understand that, I think,” she murmured.

Somehow, it gave Andromache a small amount of peace to know she could never have brought all of Pompeii away from the danger. She had brought some of them out of the city, at least.

She looked from Quintus to Demetrius, who was sitting a few feet away, and back again. “Where will you go now?”

Demetrius moved closer, and Quintus glanced at him, speaking slowly. “I have family in Britain. I think that would be the best place to go.”

“I have a few friends there as well. When you get to shore, find The Black Hound inn and tell the owner that Andromache sent you.” Andromache smiled at them before standing to continue their journey.


	2. France, 842 CE - Quynh POV

**_Uzes, France (Carolingian empire) 842 CE:_ **

The soldiers—a large group of them, from both sides of the conflict—had seen Quýnh's arm grow back after it was cut off, and Lykon come back to life after a fatal wound to his stomach. They had run away in horror, shouting to each other, likely to tell their friends and their officers, and Quýnh sighed knowing that she, Andromache, and Lykon would need to flee.

She helped Lykon, whose wound was still healing, to his feet and they walked a few laborious steps before Andromache found them again.

“They know,” Quýnh said, jerking her head back toward the battlefield as Andromache went to Lykon’s other side to help him stand.

“Fuck,” Andromache sighed harshly, immediately knowing what she meant. “Of course they do. We’d better go now.”

Soon enough Lykon was fit to walk on his own, and the three of them could move faster, hiding in the trees lining the side of the road. Once or twice they heard voices behind them, but they were able to shake off whoever was following them quickly.

Andromache was leading in front, clearly knowing where she was going though Quýnh felt vaguely lost in the trees. Soon she stopped at the top of a hill, and Quýnh saw a fortress come into view on the top of another nearby hill. Seeing Quýnh and Lykon’s looks, Andromache said quietly, “I think it’s abandoned. We can recuperate here for a few days while we decide what to do.”

But, when they got to the fortress, it was immediately clear that it wasn’t abandoned. A very pale woman in rich clothing stood in the entrance hall, and when the three immortals saw her and froze, she was silent a moment, then spoke.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice sharp and her eyes darting between the three of them.

“We are traveling through here,” Lykon said, which was partly true; his hands were raised to show he wasn’t holding a weapon, and he was doing his best to appear non-threatening.

“We are trying to get away from the fighting safely.” Andromache stepped forward, also trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and the woman glanced between the three of them again, her face sympathetic now. “We will be on our way as quickly as possible.”

“I cannot blame you for fleeing,” the woman said after a brief pause, and then after another moment of hesitation, she stepped back into her home and ushered them in quickly. “Come, I will help you.”

Andromache turned and glanced at Quýnh, then Lykon, questioningly. All three of them were exhausted by now, and the situation didn’t seem dangerous… Andromache and Lykon had probably reached the same decision Quýnh had, but it warmed her heart that Andromache would look for her opinion before going ahead. Quýnh smiled and gave her a slight nod, and they followed the woman inside.

The place was part fortress, part villa, and it was almost entirely made of stone and very empty. There were a few servants, and the woman who was leading them stopped to speak to a maid to set up rooms for them.

“You can stay here as long as you need to,” she said, turning around to face them, and Quýnh felt a rush of affection for this complete stranger.

“Thank you so much,” Quýnh said fervently, trying to convey the level of gratitude she felt for this woman for helping the three of them avoid possible capture.

Dipping her head in acknowledgement, the woman looked down to the floor. “It is no trouble. I’m only doing as any decent Christian woman would.”

Later, after Quýnh, Lykon, and Andromache had cleaned up and rested a little, the three of them had dinner with their hostess. There they learned that her name was Dhuoda, and that her husband and teenage son were away fighting for the ruler of the Carolingian Empire.

“I have been very much alone for the past year, except for my servants,” Dhuoda told them. “I had an infant son, too, but even he was taken away to keep him safe.”

“I am sorry for that,” Lykon said, softly, and Quýnh inwardly echoed the sentiment. Surely they all knew some similar experience of loneliness…

“Thank you.” There was a long pause, then she continued, “I have been trying to keep my mind occupied with other things than my own misfortunes, but it certainly helps to have other people here again as well.”

“Well, it is a good thing that this is helping all of us, then,” Quýnh smiled.

* * *

The next day, Quýnh woke early to the first soft light and the dawn chorus of birds. She got dressed and walked through the empty halls; no one else seemed to be awake yet, and so Quýnh went outside to the courtyard where the air was cool and crisp. There were apple trees, flower beds, and vine terraces all around the courtyard, and as she explored and admired it, she heard a slow and careful voice coming from the other end.

“…and another man said of pilgrims and wayfarers, so that he might be their companion in his fraternal compassion and so that he might find others to be his successors in this great effort, ‘my door was open to the traveler.’”

Quýnh stepped further into the courtyard and saw Dhuoda standing by a bench, with a man sitting and writing her words down on a piece of parchment. “He said about orphans—” Dhuoda stopped when she noticed Quýnh, smiling a little. She said something to the man, and he went back into the villa with the parchment scroll.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Quýnh started.

“No, you didn’t. I was nearly done, anyway.” There was a pause, and Dhuoda sat on the bench and Quýnh went to sit next to her.

“It is a book of advice for my son William, and hopefully his brother when he’s old enough. Since I cannot be there to guide them and teach them as their mother, I have been writing this handbook to send to them instead, in hopes that it can be a useful substitute.”

“That is a noble effort,” Quýnh murmured, her heart aching.

“It has been helpful for me to think of being able to help them, even from afar, and this is what I have been doing with the majority of my time. I’m nearly done with the handbook now, and so I hope William will have it soon…”

Later in the day, Quýnh, Andromache, and Lykon met in Andromache’s room to discuss plans of what they should do next. They decided to leave the next evening, after sunset. Quýnh's mind was still on Dhuoda, and she was a little reluctant to leave so quickly, but she agreed to the plan.

* * *

She woke early again the next morning, and again found Dhuoda in the courtyard, dictating the writing of the handbook to the man with the scroll of parchment.

“I’m sorry you will be leaving so soon,” Dhuoda said, gesturing for Quýnh to sit on the bench, “but I wish you and your friends luck.”

“Thank you, for everything you have done for us. And I wish you luck with your handbook.”

Dhuoda smiled. “Thank you for that. I will find a way to let you know when it is finished.” Quýnh returned the smile, and the two of them continued to talk until the others were awake for breakfast.

The rest of the day, Quýnh and the other immortals spent getting ready to leave. It went quickly as they packed the few clothes they had with them and the food that Dhuoda’s servants made for them, and soon enough the sun was beginning to set. It was growing dark by the time they were ready to go and had gotten their horses ready.

They said goodbye to Dhuoda, and Quýnh wished her well once again. As the three of them rode away, Quýnh glanced back and watched Dhuoda and the fortress gradually disappear into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dhuoda was a real historical figure from the Carolingian Empire, who I learned a lot about in a class last semester about the early Medieval period! Her life was very sad, but she's a very interesting person to me. She wrote the _Handbook for William_ for her teenage son who had been sent to fight for the Carolingian ruler, Charles the Bald, and her other infant son was taken away for his safety.
> 
> This chapter turned out sadder than I meant it to be tbh. And I was very tired and it was the middle of the night when I finished and posted it. Hopefully it's still good tho!


End file.
